the volume between me and you
by asiastana
Summary: Pre-movie College AU: They weren't always hero, villain, damsel. Really, truly. Once upon a time, for a few months even, they were happy. Until they weren't anymore that is.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"This is a chance to change your destiny, Sir."

Minion's voice cuts through the silence, through Megamind's scowl and reverberates with truth. His huge robot suits sags stiffly for a moment and it's a sign that Megamind needs to make more improvements for his friend's design. The dome, he thinks, is perfect as Minion is able to easily give him a pointed look and look menacing as he floats in the water.

"You," he points with a clunky robotic finger, "can do real **good**."

The word _good_ rings, holy and angelic. Almost as if a beautiful and scary archangel has granted himself entry into this homey kitchen, but the word rings, almost sung as it floats in the air. A golden word, a sacred word, and it's being used to describe him. An alien who has been defined himself being _bad_ , not right, just wrong, not–

Not–not good.

Minon is standing and Megamind can only cross his arms more tightly around his wiry frame, his thin lips pressed together firmly in his seat. He ignores the way his heart aches, to just believe, to just try. Because at twenty-two, the world still seems so vast for someone who has never left Metro City before.

 _But I've traveled through galaxies, seen stars, and found home_.

And there is some truth to what Minion says, the young fish more wise, more understanding, more everything than Megamind sometimes. For possibilities are endless and there are no absolutes (unless you're dead, that's always an absolute). He's done the math.

And with a heart that hasn't been fully scorned, one that clings to true optimism, the furrowed crease between Megamind's brow starts to lessen. Hope seeps into his pores, warming his heart, warming his soul. For despite that he's blue, he has just a soul as anyone else, he knows. He has to.

Thin arms unwrap themselves and nimble hands find their ways to his knees. With ease he pushes himself off, the chair screeching against the cold concrete floor of their makeshift home.

His words are low, shaky even as he tries to stand tall. "You think I really have a chance?"

They're honest words spoken from the most frighten part of his being.

Metal grinds on metal as Minion crosses his arms across his chest, looking pleased and smiling warmly. "I think you can do anything, Sir. You're the smartest person I know."

Megamind quirks a small smile. "I'm the only person you know."

Minion laughs and moves to the stove, going to check on pasta sauce. "Well, that may be true, but I wouldn't suggested this if I didn't think you weren't capable."

The blue alien sits back in his seat, shrugging on a sweatshirt while he does so. Propping his feet on the second chair, he asks, humor inflecting at the end. "Are you saying there are things I can't do?"

While still perfectly stirring the pasta sauce, Minion turns his fish body full around while moving his robotic limbs. His smirk is mischievous, all teeth and grin. "I mean, Boss, if you want to go be a hat model. I'm not gonna stop you…"

Megamind snaps his fingers, bare and gloveless. "Damn, there goes that career."

Through the speakers, Minion laughs as he turns around, it sounds a little watery, but still comes in clear enough. He pauses, the only sound audible in the kitchen is the the hum of the old refrigerator, the flame licking the large pot, and the spoon scraping the bottom. The silence is comfortable–stable for now, but uncertain.

Leaning back, Megamind tips his large head over the back of his chair. "So, teaching, huh?"

"Yes, Sir. Teaching."

"But," he lets the question sit in his mouth for a second. "Why?"

Minion places the spoon on its rest and heaves a great sigh while staring at the stove. "Because Megamind–" The directness is startling, the fish only using his charge's name in important situations. "As your minion, your friend–hell, your brother even–if I didn't try to actually help you achieve real happiness, what good am I?"

Megamind's heart crawls into his throat and words escape him as Minion's declaration weighs heavy on their feels like he's burning holes into the back of the gorilla robot suit with his gaze, intent and unblinking. Time ticks by, edging further into the future, before decision makes up its mind.

 _What good am I?_

 _As your minion, you friend, your brother–_

 _No, Minion, Megamind thinks, what good am I without you?_

With two hands, Megamind scrubs his eyes, groaning. "Fine, fine! I'll do it!" He gets even louder, grousing and unhappy. "Only because this is what you want for you birthday." Under his breath he mutters, "It's a stupid present…"

"It's a chance," Minion singsongs, happiness bubbling in his small body.

Y _ou are destined for–_

At his friend's glee, Megamind stands and rolls his eyes, popping his back as he stretches. "Yeah, yeah, you fish. Call me when dinner's ready."

There's a smile in his voice when he replies. "Of course, Sir."

Megamind is barely out of the doorway of their small kitchen when he looks over his shoulder and sees Minion dancing in place, totally satisfied with himself. When the blue alien rolls his eyes this time and sighs to himself, it's more of affection than annoyance.

His thoughts are circling around his latest inventions _(cyborg animals, but what animals)_ , but there's one part of him that's more emotive than logical. A small part that clutches to hope that things can be different, that goodness can spring from his fingertips, that life is more than this cosmic destiny.

It's a small thought, but a thought of nonetheless.

 _You are destined for_ something.

(He doesn't know that things will go wrong though, that no matter how hard he tries to escape density, it still somehow catches up with him. It's not a pleasant future that awaits him, for it's one filled with more hardships and more pain, but that does not mean there won't be happy moments–fond memories for him to loftily think about as he drifts off to sleep. His life has already been set in stone, but that does not that every rock is jagged. Some are quite smooth).

(These are things that he just doesn't know, things he hasn't lived just yet. But life happens, just as bad and good things do. For Megamind, bad luck is as essential as breathing).

* * *

"This is a chance to change your destiny, Roxie."

Wayne's voice is quiet in her ear, the party's roar drowned out as he cuts through it. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see her tall friend floating in midair, looking totally at ease and mischief dancing in his ice blue eyes. His hair, Roxanne thinks, looks perfect as usual with its coil styled just right.

Roxanne scoffs into her drink and gives him a shove. He's learned to be more gentle, more demure, and effortlessly lets her force move him slightly. There is real improvement in the way he's been controlling his strength lately.

But the air between the two is light and even she feels like she's floating.

"Have you been watching weird fantasy and superhero movies again?" her tone is teasing as she leans against the wall.

Wayne let's out a chuckle, sipping his drink with a grin. "Maybe."

The air in Wayne's campus house is vivacious. It's alive, it's singing, with people dancing and drinking and smoking who knows what. But everyone is safe and that's what's most important.

Before them, couples are on a makeshift dance floor, their steps barely in time with the latest Top 40 songs from Usher and Alicia Keys. No one seems alone for their bodies are melding together under disco lights and colors from all around. Hands in hair, fingers under shirts, arms around necks, lips on skin.

At twenty-one, it makes her heart twist, loneliness climbing up and whispering in her ear.

 _Don't you want something like that?_

 _You do, I can tell._

"Why aren't we like that?" she asks her non-human companion.

Wayne barks a laugh, so caught off guard that when he throws his head back, he makes a dent in the wall. He doesn't even care that plaster is in his hair. "Because you're gross."

Roxanne sticks her tongue out at him, just dancing on her ribs and scaring the loneliness away. "I know. You're gross too."

Across the house, someone is calling for "Metro Dude". More voices start to chorus in as half the house yells for the one person that actually hear the pin drop. He's growing out of his juvenile moniker, but frat boys cling to boyhood charms. Roxanne laughs when he rolls his eyes.

"I'll be right back," he starts to tell her.

But she shakes her head, a yawn caught in her mouth. "Nah, I think I'm going to head home. All the RAs have to get up early tomorrow and plan events for the upcoming quarter."

He's about to offer to take her home, but Roxanne cuts him off. "If I need you, Wayne, I know how to call you."

He nods much like how a parent does and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. "Okay, Roxie. Be safe."

And with that, he's gone–almost like he's vanished in thin air, but she can hear his laughter and joy booming from the other side of the house.

 _"Did anyone call for a Metro Dude?"_

(She doesn't know that one day that he will vanish, almost evaporate because of a death ray. Never thinks of it currently. Because why would her best friend not tell her the truth that he's tired? That he wants to give up his destiny in lieu of something else. For a while she doesn't know the answer to that, but none of that matters because he got his wish).

* * *

Well, she said she was going to go home, but that's not what's happening right now. Last second as she was grabbing her coat, she saw a portable radio in the closet. Without a hesitation, she nicked it and decided to find adventure.

She might have also grabbed a bottle of whiskey too.

Though that also is an affirmative as she's sipping her whiskey and moving towards the waterfront.

Metro City University and the Inner Industrial District aren't that far from each other. The Metro City River, while more impressive on the outskirts of town, still snakes it's way over here for trading and aquatic research. A multipurpose river really.

So, here she is with cold winter air nipping her face, a black scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, that she finds the perfect place to station the portable radio. The streetlights are glimmering off the water, little stars opposite of those in the sky. The cold ground is a better dance floor and air makes a better dance partner.

Luckily, there are batteries in the radio and static plays into the darkness. It only takes a few tries for her to adjust the frequency, stations coming in and out until she finds the right one. It's classic rock by her standards (the only music worth listening to by her father's) and all that comes back are memories when she was a child, her dad blasting music with the windows rolled down.

 _We've got to hold on to what we've got_

 _It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not_

 _We've got each other and that's a lot for love_

 _We'll give it a shot_

As she takes another sip of whiskey, the heat from the alcohol reminds her of the heat from the sun, from childhood homes in desert places, where she would ride her bike from dawn till dusk. It's a happy feeling, nostalgia tangled in her heart before she moved back East. Sunshine kissing her cheeks, leaving freckles on her skin, blonde highlights in her hair. If she pretends hard enough, she can hear her friend's laughter as they went down different trails.

In memories she feels tethered, feels secure.

She finds her sway, finds her rhythm with the song and spins and sings.

Spins and spins and spins because that is what the Earth is doing. That's what hers galaxy is doing too, the stars in the this sky, the stars in skies she doesn't even know. Spinning and spinning around a black hole. Caught in the cycle, caught in the path of always going, never, never ever slowing.

 _Woah, we're halfway there_

 _Woah, livin' on a prayer_

 _Take my hand, we'll make it I swear_

 _Woah, livin' on a prayer_

The words are spilling from her lips, pouring from all the power in her lungs as she screams into what she thinks is nothing. She just—

 _This is a chance to change your destiny, Roxie_ Wayne had said, his words in jest, but speaking to her very soul.

For can't he see that–that she's a little lost right now, just going through the motions with this thing called living? That normal people don't just go off to the waterfront sing randomly, don't seek adventure, don't–don't do the things she's doing now.

But that doesn't mean she's going to stop.

When the next song comes on the radio, Roxanne laughs and hops onto a raised ledge. Whiskey in one hand and the other out to balance herself, Roxanne belts as if she's on the biggest stage in the world. It doesn't matter that she only knows the bridge, she's giggling and letting the moment soak in. It's going into her bones, her soul, her heart. For destiny can wait a little longer just for her to finish singing a song she doesn't quite remember.

 _Hey baby, whoa my baby, my pretty baby_

 _Darlin' makes 'em do it now_

 _Hey baby, oh my baby, my pretty baby_

 _Move the way you're doin' now_

 _"What are you doing?!"_

And just like that, the voice shouts over her radio, making her jump and try to turn around in time to see who it is. But she's been drinking, been spinning, and now she's all messed up because cold January nights and ice do not recommend smooth soled boots without traction.

So, she wibbles and wobbles from side to side until she's about to topple over, land face first into cement. Gravity is working in the same way that things orbit the sun for she's being pulled to the ground.

" _Shit._ "

Rough footsteps echo as the hit the pavement, a sharp shoulder hitting her sternum, and all that Roxanne knows is that the ground has less gravitational pull when something–or rather someone–gets in the way. Her whiskey splashes instead.

" _Roxanne?"_ the voice pauses, almost like he's collecting himself. "Are you okay? What are you doing out here?"

She grunts for a second until long fingers and thin arms push her back to stand on equal ground. Rubbing the spot on her chest with a free hand, all she can see is black clothes before she lifts her eyes to see…blue chin, blue lips, blue face.

 _He looks so frozen…._

And she jumps back, just to take in the sight of him, her eyes wide and her voice panicking. "Oh my god, are you okay!?"

One black brow raises in question and green eyes look like they're dancing as a smile plays on his mouth. It's then that everything melds together, blue and green and black.

 _I read your latest op-ed for the school paper and while I don't agree with the subject matter–I was really impressed with the writing._

Dancing, bright lights and…

"Megamind."

(Destiny, it seems, has always wanted them to meet again and again and again and again).

* * *

 **A/N:** I have been wanting to write this story for...forever! I hope you guys like it! :)

The events of the movie do still happen, but this is a fun little-what could have really been. AHHH. I swear it's going to be most cute. Until it isn't lol.

The first two stanzas were from Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer" and the last one was from Led Zeppelin's "Black Dog".


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

His heart is thrumming in his ears as the world becomes comprised of two people: him and her.

"Megamind," she breathes, her voice clouded with what he assumes is dawning realization.

And then, like a light, Roxanne–perfect Roxanne Ritchi, smiles so wide that her blue eyes crinkle. "Hey—" she drags the word, warmth pouring from her heart into the air as she reaches forward to wrap her arms around him.

 _This can't be happening_ , he thinks, but it is, her hum sounding joyous as her fingers slide across his shoulders. He stops breathing when she pulls into a tight embrace that places their hearts diagonal of the other's. Her arms squeeze the life out of him for a glorious one, two, three seconds.

It's only on the last count that Megamind remembers a proper _hug_ requires two sets of arms so he gingerly raises his own to circle Roxanne. Tentative hands lightly touch the middle of her back as he leans a bit into her hold. If he didn't smell the spiciness of her perfume or the sweetness of the whiskey, he swears that he'd be dreaming.

But this is anything but a dream. It's real and it's happening to him.

Not to say that he's held a torch since high school for just one girl–woman?–but, he'd be lying if he said his heart isn't racing in his chest, blood singing in his veins.

One, two and she moves back, her hands slipping to grip his upper arms for a quick moment, before dropping them to hang. Megamind let his own fall to his sides and the two stand parallel of each other. Eyes at equal level meet, blue burning green with happiness, with friendliness.

In the background, the radio chirps a jingle, but to him–to the here and now–the world needs no sound. Not in this moment when he can taste nervousness and giddiness on this tongue, bubbling up from inside of him like a deep buried spring. Roxanne looks so content, cheeks red, nose red, lips redder as she grins, her smile soft and sweet. There's a fluttering under his skin while he lets seconds tick. Electricity, excitement, thrill pricking his flesh. His heart batters against his rib cage as he takes in icy air–cleansing just like mint.

 _This can't be real_ , he wants to think, _but it is…_

"Hi."

And–

And he wants to smack a hand to his insanely large forehead because really–that's all he can think to say? Millions of words, infinite numbers of combinations, and _hi_ is literally what he goes with?! On the inside, he's groaning, eyes rolling and body melting into the ground, becoming one with the Earth because there's no way he can ever come back from that.

But on the outside, he's smiling too, relief noticeable in his face when she laughs and tucks a chin length piece of hair behind her ear.

"Thanks for the save," she says with a sheepish expression, eyes not looking at him, and lips tugged far apart in an awkward smile.

There's a tapping on his chest and he wonders if Roxanne can hear his heartbeat. Or see it almost popping out from where they stand so near. But he manages with minimal fumbling. "Um, of course." He can't look at her either for some reason, his skin dancing to his pulse. "You're welcome."

Roxanne rocks on her heels, her gaze towards the sky when Megamind finds it in himself to look at her again. Her hair has grown to her chin, still rich chocolate brown. Her freckle at her chin is there too, peeking and still cute.

Yet he doesn't turn quick enough when she lowers her gaze and he's caught staring. Her attention is fully on him, blue eyes sparking with curiosity and he's not sure how he feels with the directness.

But, of course, he can't help but be direct either.

"What brings you out here?" he blurts. It's almost like a yell, his mouth asking a little too big and his eyes a little too wide. His hand already when motioned in a circle, big like his mouth, wide like his eyes, before he finds it in him to speak slower, calmer, softer.

Soft like the air, calm the moment, and slow like the time he wishes will never go forward…

He clears his throat, his mouth moving with more purpose as he asks again. "Why are you out here?" And this time when he gestures to here when his arm moves gently, but his tone is serious. "It isn't the safest at this hour."

Her lips purse together and tension builds in her cheek as her mouth quirks. It looks like she's gearing up for a fight, fire igniting in her eyes, but just as quick, it's out and she heaves a sigh.

She cards a hand through her hair, musing her bangs in the process. "Yeah, I know. I just–it's pretty empty out here? And…that's nice." The punch on the word _nice_ is crisp.

There's a pause as she goes and shuts off the radio, crouching down low and clicking the button. "I like the quiet…I guess?"

"Well, apparently not if you play really loud music," Megamind replies, humor laced in the statement as he shoves his hands in his pocket and walks over to her.

The world is hazy with the orange glow from the street lights, blurring the lines between dreamy and unreal. Their shadows are flat under them, making the world zoom only on their existences.

Her knees crack as she stands. "Ugh, I know!" she groans, her head tossed back and her hair catching the light. When she tips it back, her face twists. "What are you doing out here?"

Megamind feels like he's the one making the awkward smile this time, his lips pulled too far apart as he nods his head to the side. "I, uh, live in one of the buildings."

He tries not to laugh when he can visibly see her take out her mental notebook and jot down what he's saying. If he wasn't paying attention, he swears he could hear that cover flip open, pages rustling together as a pen would scratch the paper.

When has _he_ never paid attention to Roxanne Ritchi?

For her benefit though, he adds, "I like to be close by my workshop."

Roxanne nods, her brows bunching together as she turns slowly around, almost as if she's trying to pinpoint exactly where lives. She peers over his shoulder, sweeping the layout, before she settles her sights back on him. Megamind wants to squirm.

"Do you own a warehouse or something?"

"Or something," he smirks while looking away, pretending that something is more interesting over her shoulder instead.

In the distance, a car honks loudly. Water laps the concrete ledges of the river, soothing and calm. The air is humid and cold, perfect for freezing a moment forever in his mind. A memory of something worth keeping, worthy tucking on the days that seem bleak.

 _That one time someone greeted me like an old friend._

But every moment has an end and what goes up, must come down too.

When he gives her his full attention, there's only a small smile left on his lips. "Should I call you a cab?"

They aren't the words he wants to say, but he says them anyway.

Because they have been walking a moment caught between dreamy and unreal and unlikely and once in a million. And Megamind has long used him his once in a lifetime chances by the very fact that he's alive and breathing.

Getting another one just doesn't seem like a possibility.

(His life will constantly be fraught with things he doesn't think he deserves because he's alive and that's something more than not living. And so he does the math and tells himself lies, because if you say it enough times it must, be true, right?

So, _I don't care_ or _I don't need anyone_ often spills from his lips in the years to come, lying and lying and saying what he never wants to truly say because words have meanings and while he doesn't believe in magic, he can't ignore fact.

 _Roxanne could never love me_ is the largest lie though that he tells himself in the mirror. What he truly means to say is that _Roxanne will never love me_ **again** , but if he just asked, despite everything, she never stopped loving him in the first place. If only he'd ask. If only he'd talk to her. If only).

At his words, slipping forward and reaching her ears, Megamind sees how the drunken haze of freedom and inhibitions fade away. In one breath, her world shifts back and he knows that the lines are stark black, not blue.

Dainty hands go to her mouth almost to warm them, but she stifles a yawn. "A cab?"

The last few minutes repeat on loop in the back of his mind. Her fingers grazing his shoulders, his back. The brush of her hair against his cheek. The way she held him as if he was something worth holding. The familiarity, the equalness, the everything.

Reaching into his jacket, Megamind nods though and pulls out a brick of a cell phone. He wags it from side to side, grateful to Minion once again. "Yeah, it's getting pretty late and you should get home."

He ignores the way she chews her bottom lip as his fingers fiddle with the buttons looking for the address book. To him, the world is still dreamy, still unreal, still perfect, but he knows that there is only so long that someone can stand the company of someone not exactly human.

(He doesn't know though that in this moment, the world is still dreamy, still perfect for Roxanne too. That tonight started with the ambition for adventure and finding one's fate, and here before her, her world is getting lined in blue. After all, chance might as well be her middle name).

He clicks the button for the local taxi company, the rings heard as he starts to bring it up to ear, when there's a tug on his sleeve, her thumb and forefinger ghosting his inner wrist.

Megamind relies on involuntary brain activity to remember how to breathe.

A man's voice echoes from the phone's speaker, but time has slowed again, stretched out, as a symphony spills from Roxanne's lips.

"Do you think you can walk me home?" she starts, eyes cast low before glancing up and scorching him with one look. "It's not too far, if that's okay."

His thumb reflexively hangs up the call, and Megamind finds words to work again in this throat after a swallow or two. "Um, it's completely fine. If that's what you want." He asks this more slowly. "That's what you want, right? For me–for me walk you home–that is."

Roxanne lets out a breath and grins so big her cheeks look particularly full. "Yeah," she finishes with a laugh and grabs the handle of the radio before heading off towards the local university.

Megamind stands there for a moment, unable to move because this is really happening. He's walking a girl home and there wasn't even a date? Just. _has stopped working. Error! Error!_

But then she pauses, one foot barely in front of the other until she brings them together. Looking over her shoulder as if this is always how it's been, she smiles for a second before furrowing her brows. "Aren't you coming or…?"

 _Or do you not want to_ , she doesn't say and he can just tell because she's kind of frowning and she must be thinking he's changing his mind because well–he's _Megamind_.

He blinks and she's still there and a gentle breeze pushes him forward, one leg moving after the other until he jogs up right beside her. "Sorry–I was just thinking."

They start moving in tandem, steps lined with the other while she glances over at him, blue eyes twinkling. "Do you ever stop thinking?" Her brows move, almost teasing when she motions his head.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, enjoying the way that the path in front of them is bright. "Of course," he tells her. "Like when I'm sleeping–or–or…," he starts to spurt. "Or when things catch me off guard."

Their footfalls clink against the sidewalk as she hums. "Like what?"

Looking up at the stars, the far and few between because of all the light pollution, he remembers how bright they were up close. "When I see beautiful things," he admits honestly with a low voice. "Or new things–like you, I suspect," he ventures trying to joke, but it comes out softer, like the air, like the atmosphere.

"I never said you weren't."

And the way she says it, her voice is threaded between humor and seriousness and it makes Megamind wants to zip up his mouth, his face, his skin because what if what he said was… _wrong?_ He sucks in a breath and holds it because if he lets it out, he's just going to say more bad things.

 _Keep your eyes on the road and just don't say anything and get her home._

Roxanne feels the silence quickly though, her words rushed so fast. "I don't think you're that different than me."

It isn't until he realizes that he has to turn around that he notices that Roxanne stopped walking beside him. When he faces her, the few steps between them feel like miles, and all he sees is her frantic expression, fingers grasping the hem of her red coat.

"You and me," she states, her eyes locked on him. "We're just people."

And he feels like he's being burned again, her stare like fire and her words absolute.

 _We're just people_ and the word _people_ rings in his mind because being a _people_ means being a _person_ and–and, Roxanne thinks he's a person.

So, his mind goes blank because that's what happens when new things catch him off guard because right here, right now, someone thinks he's a person and it's so innocent and she probably doesn't know how much weight her words have and–it's beautiful.

"I mean, I only freaked out a little earlier because I thought you had hypothermia!" she exclaims, her hands going up in the air (because he doesn't know that he just keeps staring at her like she has two heads).

And all thoughts are thrown out the window as he goes over the symptoms of hypothermia in his mind because he guesses seeing someone _blue_ out of the blue can cause that connection. His laughter breaks out of him, pouring out like rushing water as he bends over and tries to gasp for air. Because, this tonight, right now, is totally ridiculous.

"Hypo–" he tries to say, but he just laughs more and his sides are starting to ache.

Roxanne huffs and crosses her arms. "I thought you literally froze to death…"

He takes one more big gasp of air and rubs his eyes to make sure there are no tears. "Because I'm blue?"

"…yes…"

And he loses it all again, doubled over, knee slapping laughter punching him right in the face.

It's wonderful and perfect and totally understandable when Roxanne pouts and stalks off towards the university again.

To that, he composes himself and chases after her. "Wait, wait. I'm sorry," he tries to keep the joy out of his voice.

Though they are walking in time again, she doesn't look at him when she mutters. "You better," but he can see the little grin she's buried into her scarf.

Idle chit-chat about silly things has never felt so nice.

("What's the 999th number of Pi?")

(He smirks. "9.")

A sign for the dormitories comes into view and a part of him is hoping that she lives somewhere else, but then she slows her pace until she halts. That awkward smile is back as she turns to face him.

"Well," she drawls. "This is my stop…"

Megamind nods, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Well, then," he trails because he doesn't know what to say.

Moments tick between them again, spun up in laughter and joy and new things and he prays Roxanne knows what to do next.

She opens her mouth, about to say something, her cheeks pink as she catches his gaze. "I–"

But bad luck is as essential as breathing for Megamind and her words are drowned out when a voice booms. "Roxie, babe!"

Both Megamind and Roxanne jump as they look towards the sky.

What goes up, must come down and Metro Dude is descending, a hand on his chest as he lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh thank god you're okay. I was so worried about you, darlin'."

Roxanne rubs the back of neck, a blush crawling up her flesh, embarrassment apparent. "Uh, sorry?"

Metro Dude smiles and it's perfect as usual and Megamind's stomach twists. "It's okay. You just usually call when you get home."

 _Of course. Of course, of course, of course!_ He's not stupid, he can put two and two together.

By now, Roxanne is standing straighter, more sure and she smiles. "I'm fine. Megamind walked me home."

To that, icy blue eyes look over at him and Megamind is already preparing a scathing remark on his tongue don't worry, _I didn't lay a hand on your girlfriend_ when he says. "Thanks for taking care of my best buddy, Blue."

Ignoring the fact that the bane of his existence just called him a primary color as his only name, all Megamind can fumble is asking, "…buddy?"

Green eyes look between them and Roxanne laughs when she sees him trying to add them together in an equation. "Oh, yeah. Wayne's just my friend."

 _Just. My. Friend._

"Um."

"Roxie, don't you have to get up early?"

And Roxanne gasps, looking between both aliens and just runs her hands in her hair. "Oh my god, I totally forgot. _Fuck_."

(Megamind also ignores how hearing her swear is a lot hotter than he anticipated.)

She twirls to Wayne, "Can you get me to my room real quick?"

He nods.

Then she spins to Megamind. "I'm totally sorry about everything tonight," and before Megamind can actually say anything in return. "Um, my email is roxanneritchi at hotmail dot com if you want to keep in touch, okay?"

"Uh, yeah?" he asks like a question because right now not a lot is making sense.

"Okay, good. Um, goodnight and thank you and…yeah."

How did everything get so awkward?

"Goodnight," he bids and waves and she nods and waves.

And before he knows, it–they're gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts that are only looping, and for once, logic is failing.

It feels almost right.

 _Keep in touch, okay?_

 _"…_ fuck…"

Maybe he means confusing.

Because that actually makes sense.

(And soon it will make sense that they'll be here with him as friends, as loved ones. But that's only for a little while because just like he's standing right now, it'll be him against them.)

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the fluff bomb!

Also, i'm so sorry the email bit came out weird. lol. hates me


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

He never emails.

Which is fine, Roxanne thinks, because she has _not_ been glued to her computer for the last week and a half, clicking refresh at every quarter hour waiting or something. That's just–something she doesn't do. Not Roxanne Nicole Ritchi. Nope, not her. Not one bit. Not ever. Not–

Okay, sure. Wayne has pointed out that _maybe_ he totally messed everything up by doing his crazy weird Wayne-ception thing: by accidentally scaring off any boy that seems slightly promising. That's fine too. It happens.

(Like all the time, but who's counting? Not Roxanne. Nope, not her).

(And not like she wants to _date_ Megamind! She just wants to befriend him! Innocently get to know him because _whoa_ she did not feel attraction. And so what if he's practically the smartest guy on the planet and owns a warehouse for _reasons unknown_ and _wanted to know if she wanted a cab_. Like so he's interesting and–and–)

And looking back as she heads to her first class of the quarter, she doesn't think she was _that_ weird or out of line when she piratically threw herself at him and demanded Megamind walk her home after deciding that it was a fine night to be a trespassing delinquent. It's totally normal to want to catch up with an old classmate you barely spoke to because hey–they were kinda standoffish and loner-ish and lots of other -ishes and you were too chicken to really speak to them before your high school senior prom.

(And if you're class schedule just happened to really match up with theirs, it was only due to the fact that both of you were fantastic students. Minus math, Roxanne just couldn't do that super advanced math).

But that's then and this is now and the first day of school is always supposed to be a great day, but it's already turning sideways because her mind is caught in _what if, what if, what if_.

Because the fact is: Roxanne is a loser who gives boys her _email_ when she has a totally good cell phone number and who gives their email address to _not-date-but-maybe-one-day-if-they-click-date-not-date_ boys _?_

Her panic carries her to her first class, a lovely eleven am that meets three times a week. A simple GE in basic physics for humanities majors. No math, just theories. Show up for class, take notes, and an easy B without much effort, an A if you try a little.

And Roxanne would kill for being good at something because trying to not flirt flirt with boys is certainly not working.

She finds a spring in her step though when she catches sight of Wayne chatting someone up in the few minutes before class. As she gets closer, black hair gleams and brown eyes shine bright and Roxanne is entangled into a hug.

"Roxanne!" Tracie squeals, squeezing her tight and holding her to her boobs.

And all bad thoughts that have followed Roxanne the last week drain away as her best friend holds her close and begins to babble insistently.

"My mama kept asking about you!" she says with her slight southern drawl. "Wanted to know if I was dragging you down spring break so she can finally teach you how to make egg rolls."

Roxanne grins as she pulls away. "We'll see," she laughs. "Though I'm always ready for a Mrs. Chen cooking class."

Tracie beams. "Good, good."

There is a slight lull in conversation as student shuffle in and out of the large lecture hall, five hundred going one way, five hundred going the other. Despite that winter break has ended, everyone is in good cheer about the first day of classes too it seems. It isn't long until Tracie, Wayne, and Roxanne find a row in the back, near other upperclassman and far away from the first years.

Around them, the hall buzzes with chatter as friends catch up with each other. The added warmth from the heater is also nice and the large room takes on a cozy atmosphere as people wrestle out of big coats and wriggle off gloves.

It's only when Roxanne is having trouble shrugging off her coat that Tracie decides to help her, but at a price. "So–tell me about this old high school classmate."

Behind Tracie, Wayne is chuckling because Roxanne looks just like a deer in the headlights, big eyes, brown hair, and a vacant, scared stare. She could choose not to answer, ignore it entirely, but she's already leaning into her neighbor's shared arm rest and–that will not do.

(Thankfully in the years to come, she will become more polished, stops freezing when someone asks her about her love life (or lack thereof). By then, there will already be a suture stitched on her heart and all that remains is a pleasant smile followed by such a rehearsed giggle that no one knows she's faking. In most cases, she doesn't know either).

So, she blushes bright red, matching her favorite coat and mittens and turns her face away to stare at the interesting shape of her backpack. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Tracie is relentless though, always has been, always will be. Leaning over, she curls her fingers over Roxanne's shoulder. "Because from Wayne said, you've been waiting for an email for a certain somebody," she singsongs.

She takes a deep breath and turns to face her friends–if she must call them that–and decides to be frank. "Look, I just want to be his friend! That's it!"

They both look unconvinced as Wayne leans over, his frame almost burying Tracie between the two of them. "Roxie, it's totally okay if you like aliens," he tells her effortlessly. He's doing that thing again where she can't tell if he's joking or being honest because he's always so–so– _relaxed_. "I, myself, am a fine specimen."

Now, there are many things, Roxanne wants to say, such as _you're kind of alien_ _and Megamind's kind of alien are completely different ballparks, you're an asshole, Wayne Scott,_ and her personal favorite _, you, sir, are the last thing from fine._

She doesn't say either of those though and leans back in her sit, smirking. "Remember who helped you when we figured out your special puberty issue. Remember that, Metro Dude."

If Wayne can fly faster than the speed of light, than Roxanne is proud to say that she is able to make him look horrified even quicker than that because his whole face screws up, his mouth open and his eyes almost pop out of his skull. Without a word, he sinks back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest and looking down.

Tracie's gaze flickers between them, her smile growing as questions spill from her lips. "So, he's an alien?"

Roxanne quirks her brow in an almost question, her lips twisting in confusion. "Yeah?"

"Like Wayne?"

To that, she presses her lips tighter because how does one explain Megamind? A person she barely knows to someone who's limited interaction with aliens happens to be one with one person and that person himself looks more human than most. Muscled out to the max, but more human, more easy to ignore than say…blue.

Or fish in gorilla suits.

Or that one time she met those really, really intelligent robots when she was nine.

(So, she's met a few aliens in her life, but that's a different story for another time).

The case in point is, she doesn't want to _befriend_ (sure, Roxanne–keep telling yourself that) because he's an alien. She already has that novelty with Wayne. He floats, shoots laser beams from his eyes, and can fly. Megamind is pretty much pedestrian in her books.

Really, all she wants to know is _why_ he has a warehouse and what does he do in his warehouse because…who has a warehouse at twenty-two? Those are the important questions, more important that describing what makes him alien because really–it's just his big head. Literally and figuratively, humans have a lot of those already.

But she doesn't answer the question, not when her mouth is falling to the floor because stepping out of the side room is–

"Like that," Wayne says, his voice hushed too as both of them watch.

Tracie looks between them again and follows their lines of sight until she finds it at the bottom of the hall, her small gasp audible. Standing not too far from the professor that walks up to the podium and not too far behind him is a young man dressed uncomfortably in black slacks and a white button down next to a rather large gorilla robotic suit.

"Good morning, class!" the old man at the front cheers. Like them, all the students are quiet, but Roxanne is positive it isn't because they are being respectful.

"My name is Dr. Naveen Mobasher and I'll be teaching Physics: Theories of Space and Time this winter quarter," he takes a breath and smiles at everyone. "This will be a simple course, limited math for you non-science majors, but still good things to know about our universe. And as you can see, I have a special guest who will actually be shadowing me all quarter, Dr. Mind."

Megamind looks completely terrified for a moment as the doctor gestures to him before schooling his features back to be blank. It reminds Roxanne much of how he looked like in high school, how he just never seemed to care, but here states the contrary.

Green eyes scan the crowd and Roxanne is positive that they've landed on her as his facade breaks, his eyes going wide for a fraction of a second. He's so still, it's like he's stopped breathing,but she doesn't blame him. She's stopped breathing the second he came into the room.

The length of the gaze is electric, it is burning, all consuming.

In the background, Dr. Mobasher describes how his class will be a thrilling adventure about space and the stars and the volume between each one, but for now, the world has only zoomed in on this moment between him and her.

For who cares about the distance a planet needs to be away from a sun to maintain organic lifeforms when the distance between Roxanne and Megamind seems infinite?

But he looks away first, moves to sit in his seat and air rushes into her lungs as she tries to breathe because–because–

 _He never emailed me_ , she thinks _, he never emailed me and this?_

 _This is all too much and kinda really confusing_.

(And that is the trend with Megamind Roxanne learns in the days, weeks, months, years to come. He's confusing, he's overwhelming, and he's everything she always wants, but wishes she never did in the first place. But she wouldn't trade that for anything in the world. Even when everything is going completely wrong).


End file.
